Of Wolves and Woodpeckers
by penelope lemon
Summary: "Welcome to Camp Green Lake. You got eighteen months of holes and heat to look forward to," X-Ray said like I had just signed my own death warrant. I must have been partially insane to think that I could to this. I mean, could I really fool theses campers? And for how long? I had made it through my first day, and I had hoped my second would go just as smooth...but I was dead wrong.
1. Riley

**Riley**

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**Authors Note:** I couldn't sleep the other night (of course) so I decided to watch a movie I haven't seen in a while, Holes. And, voila , this story was born. A lot of information in this chapter, so sorry about that, but if you enjoyed it, let me know.

I know this story is_ so_ over done so I thank you for clicking mine. I swear this isn't completely unoriginal! Just give it a chance. Mary Sues are banished while plenty of twists and turns are welcomed in the fandom. I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Holes but Riley, Elliot and Fletcher are indeed my own characters, which I do own. Any similarities are purely coincidental unless stated other wise. Holes belongs to its respected owners. Yadda yadda yadda.

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Sometimes we do things because we have to, not because we want to. I stole to feed myself and Elliot, not because I enjoyed it but because it was a matter of survival. I was good at it too. I could slip my hand into a pocket and pull out a bill faster than someone could say stop. By the time they realized they had been picked pocketed, I was gone.

Like I said, I didn't enjoy it. Living life as a sixteen year old on the streets was no easy occupation. I did what I could to keep myself going and for the past five years, it had worked pretty well for me. I hadn't been caught. Not yet at least.

I suppose it all started when I was eleven, but my story started even further back than that. I never knew my parents and they never knew me. I was put up for adoption when I was born, and told that I was birthed out of wed lock. I was adopted to a nice couple and given the name Riley Larson. I lived with them until I was about six, when they were both killed in a car accident. I didn't remember them much, but they were the only family I had ever came to really know. After that, I spent the next five years of my life moving from foster home to foster home, being placed in all sorts of families, just waiting for someone to adopt me.

I guess I just wasn't one of the lucky ones, like the other kids.

By the time I turned eleven, I was sick of it all; sick of the adults pretending everything would be okay, sick of my peers pretending to sympathize with me, sick of pretending like everything was normal. So I did what any eleven year old would have, I ran away. The first year was rough but I was a quick learner. I had to be if I wanted to survive on the streets. I learned how to take care of myself by taking from others.

I was fourteen when I met Elliot. He was twelve at the time and in a similar predicament I was in. He struggled adjusting to street life so I took him under my wing and showed him the ropes. We literally became thick as thieves, fitting together like puzzle pieces. We looked out for each other and we look care of each other. Elliot was good at drawing peoples attention away, while I would quietly rob them blind. We made the ideal team and together, we managed to stay alive. I felt a certain responsibility to protect Elliot, he was the closest thing to family I had.

That's how Elliot and I found ourselves tucked away quietly in an alley, waiting.

I peered down the street, spotting a boy not much older than me making his way towards us. He wore a worn red hat on top a head of curly brown hair. He was skinny, whistling a tune I had never heard before. I caught a snippet of it as he passed by the alley.

"_The wolf waits below, hungry and lonely-_-" The boy sang, before whistling the end of it.

I turned to Elliot and nodded. He grinned, and dashed out of the alley, running down the street towards the boy. As he passed the boy, Elliot rammed his shoulder into the his back, making the boy stumble forwards and knocking the hat from his head. Elliot didn't even miss a step, calling over his shoulder, "Sorry 'bout that!" as he ran away, turning the corner.

The boy leaned over and picked up his hat, frowning as he cleaned it off before replacing it on his head. When he bent over, I slid his wallet from his back pocket, retreating into the alley. I glanced over my shoulder. The boy hadn't even noticed, he just continued on his way.

I smiled and flipped open the wallet, rummaging through its contents. Elliot appeared by my side seconds later.

"So?" He asked eagerly, trying to peer into the wallet, "How much did we get Riley?"

Annoyed, I shoved him away, "Back off, will you? I'm trying to count," I snapped, pulling out the bills, "Barley ten dollars," I replied after a minute. I tucked the money into my backpack, pulling out a student ID card, "Look," I laughed, showing Elliot the name on the card.

Elliot chuckled, "Stanley Yelnats?" he asked, "What kind of name is that?"

I shrugged then discarded the wallet. Looks like today was not Stanley Yelnats's lucky day.

"Ten dollars," I said, turning to Elliot, "We need more than that, you need new shoes. Let's head down to the cafe."

There are things every street kid comes to know while living on their own, things I had come to observe early on.

The first is that I never knew when my next meal was, so I made the best of what I had.

The second was that getting caught out after dark was a recipe for disaster.

The third was that I always had to watch for cops.

That is where I made a mistake that would land both Elliot and I in deep trouble.

We headed down the street. The cafe was pretty popular, both for residents and for the street kids. We always managed to rake in a pretty good amount of money there. I looked at Elliot and he gave me a quick nod. He knew what he needed to do.

Elliot took off up the street, stopping a large man with a bushy mustache. Elliot pulled out a deck of cards from his back pocket, flashing an innocent smile.

"Excuse me mister," he said jovially and I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous act, "Would you like to see a card trick?"

"No thank you," the man replied, waving Elliot off. He tried to side step him, but Elliot moved so he was blocking his path.

"Please sir!" Elliot said, "I've got to practice! It will only take just a moment."

Without waiting for a reply, Elliot began shuffling the cards, then asked the man to pick a card from the deck. As he did so, I brushed up along side the man, slowly reaching my hand towards his pocket. Elliot instructed the man to replace the card in the deck and he did as he was told. My fingers brushed the leather of his wallet and I managed to slide it out carefully.

"Is this your card?" Elliot asked as I pocketed the wallet and gave him a nod.

The man rubbed his mustache, "No."

"Oh," Elliot replied, catching my gaze, "I guess I need more practice. Thanks mister," he said hastily then followed me around the street corner and out of sight.

A few seconds later and I released the breath I had been holding. No matter how many times I had picked pockets, it was still a nerve wracking prospect of getting caught always loomed in the air. I handed Elliot the wallet, relief flooding my body.

I spoke to soon.

"Hey!" I heard the large mans voice carry down the street, "Those little rats took my wallet! Someone get them!"

I turned to Elliot, "Run for it!" I cried and we took off down the street just as a man in a blue uniform rounded the corner.

How had I not seen the cop? We never got cops around the cafe during the week day. I hadn't expected one to be there but that was still no excuse. I should have known better. I was sure the cop had been lingering on the street the whole time, watching mine and Elliot's crime unfold before his eyes. We were done for.

The sound of sirens made me turn my head. The cop had jumped into his car and was pulling away from the curb, the red and blue lights flashing at us mockingly. There was no way we could out run a cop car. I looked around and spotted a narrow ally. I took hold of Elliot's shirt sleeve and dragged him between the buildings, anything to put distance between us and the cop. I heard the screech of his tires as the cop pulled over to chase us down on foot.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I ran. A chain link fence blocked our way at the end of the ally but that didn't stop us. We nimbly climbed over the fence and kept running. The cop was hot on our trail and while the fence slowed him down, it didn't stop him. We rounded another alley that head out to the street again. Another cop car pulled up to the mouth of the alley. Elliot and I skidded to a stop. We were trapped, a cop on each side.

The two cops closed in on us.

"Enough games," the one who had chased us panted, "You two are in serious trouble."

I took Elliot's arm again and tried to make a break for it. It was a useless attempt but I was desperate. The cop lunged for us, laying a hand on my shoulder and yanking me back while the other took hold of Elliot.

"Riley!" he cried desperately.

"Elliot!"

"Let go of her!" Elliot snapped, wiggling free of the cops grasp. He ran towards the cop that had me pinned and gave him swift kick to his shin. The cop cried out in pain and released me. I scrambled up the alley to escape, turning to see both cops now wrestling Elliot to the ground. They pined him to the pavement and I could hear a soft whimper escape him.

"Elliot!"

"Get out of here!" Elliot cried, "Go on! I'll be okay!"

I hesitated, watching as the cops pulled out a pair of handcuffs and secured Elliot's hands behind his back, before I took off. I ran down the street, ducking into alleys and jumping more fences. I wasn't sure if the cops were still following me and I didn't dare look over my shoulder. I finally stopped when I rounded another street corner and leaned up against a brick building to catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and then another one. The cops had Elliot pinned and I just turned and ran, abandoning him like a coward. He wouldn't have done that if I was the one being cuffed. He would have come back for me. I should have fought harder or ran faster or done something, _anything_, to help Elliot. But no, what did I do instead? I turned and deserted the one person in my life who I considered family.

By now the cops probably had Elliot in the back of the cop car and were whisking him down to the station.

"God Riley!" I sighed angrily at myself, "You stupid girl!"

I took a few more deep breaths. I need to calm down and think straight. I needed to figure out some way to save Elliot. I needed to keep him out of a juvenile detention center. I needed to clear his name, help him escape, keep him away from the foster homes.

I needed help.

I needed Fletcher.


	2. The Call

**The Call**

* * *

Eccles Theater had once housed plays and musicals but after closing down in the 90s it housed homeless kids of all ages, sizes and races. There were eight of us currently taking up residence there, including Elliot and I.

The theater was rundown and smelled of musty wood and moth balls. We had to watch our step in the old building, careful not to trip over rigging or rotting floor. Cobwebs hung from the stage lights, no longer in use, and old props collected dust in the corners. At night I could hear the rats running along the trap doors beneath the stage and up the isles of seats. The theater leaked, creaked and groaned but it was still home to us.

Fletcher was the one that introduced me to Eccles Theater when I was elven, he was thirteen at the time.

Fletcher was sort of the self proclaimed leader of our gang of homeless teens, having lived at Eccles Theater the longest. About a year ago though Fletcher managed to find a job working at a restaurant as a waiter. It was no glamor fest, but it was better than any of us had done. He earned some money and went from homeless to renting a small apartment on the other side of the city.

We didn't see much of him after that. He would drop by every once in a while, usually to drop off some left overs from the restaurant, but his visits were becoming less frequent. Fletcher knew the workings of the streets inside and out. If anyone was going to help me, it would be him. I wasn't sure where to find him, but I started with his work. I lucked out, and found Fletcher on his lunch break.

I waited by the back door of the restaurant until he came out, dressed in his waiters uniform.

"Riley," he said, looking surprised to see me, "Haven't seen you much about. What brings you here?"

Fletcher was tall and lanky eighteen year old. He had thick brown hair that was cut short and brown eyes. He was a smart and resourceful kid who was as smooth talking as he was friendly. Fletcher was one of those likable people. Not like me. Living on the streets as a teen had a tendency to make me socially inept. I didn't connect with people easily and I was completely awkward whenever I came across someone remotely human.

"I need your help," I finally said, not bothering to waste time with formalities, "Elliot is in trouble."

Fletcher frowned, rolling up the sleeves to his white uniform.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

"Something went wrong. We were just doing out usual rounds and I slipped up. I stole from a man right in front of a cop. They chased us down and cornered us in one of the alleys. I managed to get away thanks to Elliot but they got him. They took him Fletcher, handcuffed him and put him in the back of the car. You need to help me get him back. He can't go to jail," I said, everything coming out in a rush.

A wave of guilt over came me again. Elliot was in trouble because I had made a mistake, because I had been lazy and because I had abandoned him to the cops. I felt so angry with myself. Elliot was on the fast track to jail because of me.

"Calm down Riley," Fletcher said, laying a hand on my shoulder, "You don't know Elliot will go to jail."

I shook my head, "I handed the wallet to him after I took it, he had it on him when the cops got him. I know Elliot, he'll take the blame for everything and they'll send him to prison and it's all my fault."

"Stop blaming yourself," Fletcher said firmly, "And stop jumping to conclusions Riley. Elliot is a smart kid. We'll figure out a way to get him out, okay?"

I nodded.

"Okay," Fletcher sighed, dropping his hand from off my shoulder, "I'm not off work for another hour. I'll stop by Eccles Theater then and we'll figure something out. Just don't loose your head Riley, we'll get him out. Besides, there is nothing we can do until we hear from Elliot."

I nodded again.

Fletcher flashed me a smile, "It will be okay. I'll see you in an hour Riley," he said, slipping back into the restaurant.

I lingered by the back door for a few minutes, Fletcher's words running on repeat in my head. He was right. Fletcher would figure out something and we would save Elliot. Fletcher cared for Elliot almost as much as I did. He knew how much Elliot meant to me and he'd do anything to help us, I just knew it.

I started on the long walk back to Eccles Theater. I stuck with the back roads and side streets, which took longer to navigate but if the police were still looking for me, they would be the safest way to go. All sorts of thoughts clouded my brain as I walked. Elliot was a strong kid but jail would eat him alive. There was no way he would survive. There was no way I could survive. Not without Elliot by my side. We were a team and last time I checked a team meant persons not person.

I pushed the large garbage bin from in front of the back door and entered the back stage of Eccles Theater. The kids that were still living at the theater all looked up. They immediately knew something was amiss.

"Where's Elliot?" One of them asked, standing up and walking towards me.

I looked at the teens, "He got caught. The police took him in."

A chorus of questions followed.

"Where were you?"

"By the cafe down the block," I replied.

"Will he be okay?"

"I don't know," I answered.

"You didn't lead the cops down here, did you?"

"'Course not!" I snapped, annoyed that the kids would even think I'd be stupid enough to do that.

We had a sort of secret society of dirty faces and empty bellies at Eccles Theater. All the kids that lived there looked out for each other. We let each other know the hot spots for begging, the gas stations with showers and which back roads to avoid. We watched out for each other on the streets and helped out as best we could.

Why the teens would think I would be as careless as to lead the cops to our home was beside me.

I finally sighed, "Listen I don't know much right now but I do know we're going to get Elliot back. I'll let you know if anything new comes up."

That seemed to satisfy their curiosity. The teens dispersed and went back to their business, no doubt relieved that at least it wasn't them potentially headed for prison. I sighed and took a seat by my things, counting the minutes as they passed. That hour had to have been one of the longest of my life as I waited for Fletcher to get off work.

"Fletcher!" One of the boys yelped, getting up to greet his friend as Fletcher finally walked through the door, "I hardly recognized you stranger! You're never come around any more."

I looked over my shoulder and watched Fletcher shrug his shoulders, "Been busy," he said then held up a large grocery bag full of left over bread from the restaurant. The teens cheered and snatched the bag from him, tearing into it.

Fletcher stepped back, walking over to me and taking a seat, "God," he chuckled, "The little savages. I guess that means I'm forgiven."

I glanced at the kids, who were now whacking each other over the heads with baguettes. Any other time, I probably would have replied with some snarky comment, but right now I wasn't in the mood. I had other things on my mind.

"Okay, let's get down to business," Fetcher said, "Tell me exactly what happened."

I recounted the story to him in better detail. I tried to describe what the cops looked like but I never got a good look. Fletcher asked a couple questions, but mostly listened.

"Then I went straight to the restaurant to find you," I finished with a sigh.

I heard the buzzing of a phone. I looked at Fletcher. None of the kids could afford a phone, we used the pay phone across the street if we ever needed to make a call so it was only logical that Fletcher would have one on him. He pulled it out and answered it. I immediately recognized the voice on the other end.

"Fletcher? It's Elliot. I need help," he was saying hastily from the other line.

"Elliot?" I asked and reached for the phone. Fletcher leaned away from my grasp.

"Yeah Elliot, I'm here. Riley told me everything," Fletcher was saying while trying to avoid my reach as he talked, "Listen, you need to tell me what's going on. Riley and I are going to get you out of there, understand?"

Fletcher rolled alway from me when I tried to snatch the phone from his hand. He held me back with one hand, the phone in the other, listening to Elliot.

"Fletcher you give me that phone!" I snapped as we wrestled. I rolled over on top of him and sat on his chest, prying his fingers off the phone shouting a triumphant, "Ha!" when I finally managed to get it. I continued sitting on his chest as I talked to Elliot.

"Elliot? It's Riley," I said quickly, "Elliot I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left you like that. Can you ever forgive me? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay Riley," Elliot replied but even as he said it, I could hear the fear in his voice, "The cops took me to the jail that's down town. They have me in a holding cell for now while they decide on a court date. They let me have one phone call and Fletchers was the only one I could remember."

"Court date?" I asked.

"Yeah. The cops told me that I'm being charged with attempted robbery, avoiding arrest and assaulting an officer. I'm going to be assigned a lawyer by the state but it doesn't look good Riley. They'll determine my sentence at the court hearing. I'm scared Riley."

I closed my eyes and put my hand to my face. It hurt hearing Elliot say that. Elliot, who always tried to be strong, was voicing how frightened he was. It wasn't like him so I could only imagine how bad this experience was for him.

"I know Elliot," I sighed, "Don't worry though. Fletcher and I are working out a plan to get you out. Everything is going to be okay, just remember that. I have your back remember? Keep calling Fletcher and keep us updated. Call us after the hearing and let us know what your sentence is. Be brave Elliot. You're going to be okay."

"I know," Elliot said softly from the other end, "I have to go Riley."

"Elliot? Wait! Don't hang-" but it was to late. The line went dead.

I closed the phone slowly and rolled off Fletcher, handing his phone back to him. Fletcher sat up, frowning.

"So? What did he say?"

"They're keeping him at the jail until the court date. They'll have a hearing to decide his sentence. The evidence is stacked against him, Fletcher, he has two cops prosecuting him and even with a lawyer I don't think he'll make it out without a punishment," I said.

Fletcher sighed, rubbing his face, "Okay," he said, "Then we'll wait. Elliot will keep us posted. We'll wait until after the hearing to decide what to do. Who knows? Maybe they'll let him off with a warning?"

I looked at Fletcher, "Fat chance," I said.

"Yeah," Fletcher sighed, "It's a long shot. Don't worry though Riley, we'll figure something out. We just have to sit tight and be patient for a few days."


	3. Camp Green Lake

**Camp Green Lake**

* * *

The next week passed by painfully slowly. I was impatient and antsy waiting for Elliot's call. I stopped by the restaurant every day, sometimes twice a day, to check and see if he had called. I drove Fletcher to insanity and he finally threatened not to help me if I continued to bug him at work. So, then I waited at Eccles Theater for Fletcher to come to me, all the while hoping that Elliot, by some miracle, would be able to get off with only a warning.

By the end of the week, Fletcher finally stopped by the theater. I ran up to him when he entered, eager for news.

"Elliot?" I asked, "Did he call you?"

Fletcher nodded.

"Well?" I pushed, "What did he say? Are they going to let him go? Is he going to jail?"

"Elliot said they found him guilty of all charges. The judge sentenced him to twelve months at a juvenile detention center, not jail. He's leaving for the camp today."

"Twelve months! What center?"

"A place called Camp Green Lake," Fletcher replied.

"Camp Green Lake? Sounds like a Girl Scout summer camp, not a juvenile detention center."

Fletcher nodded, "I know. I looked it up. It's an all boys detention center placed on a lake that has been dried up for over a hundred years. They use physical labor to build character and the boys have interventions with counselors."

"What the hell?" I asked, "I've never heard of any place like that."

Fletcher nodded, "Yeah, neither have I. It looks like a pretty tough place Riley," he added gently.

I nodded, taking a breath, "Right, so, what are we going to do? How are we going to break Elliot out of Camp Green Lake?"

"That's the thing Riley," Fletcher said slowly, "I don't think we can. The camp is out in the middle of the desert. There would be no place to run or hide. We would be sitting ducks and that would only make things worse for Elliot. I think the best thing to do is-"

"Don't say it," I threatened, cutting Fletcher off.

"-wait until Elliot is let out," he finished, ignoring me.

I felt my fists clench in anger. I was angry at Fletcher for thinking that I would just leave Elliot to a detention center, I was angry at the judge for giving Elliot his sentence, I was angry at the cop for arresting him but mostly I was angry at myself for letting all of this happen.

"No," I said firmly, "There is no way I am leaving Elliot like that. He's my partner, we stick up for each other. We've been watching out for each other for two years and that is not about to change. I have to do this Fletcher. I have to bring Elliot back with or without your help."

"Riley you're not thinking straight," Fletcher retorted, "It's an all boys detention center in the middle of the desert. How do you propose we break him out?"

I glanced around the old theater, looking for inspiration. I hadn't thought that far head. How were we going to get Elliot out?

"Maybe," I said slowly, turning to Fletcher, "The trick isn't getting Elliot _out_, but getting us _in_."

Fletch frowned as he started to piece together what I was getting at.

"Oh no Riley," he said, "There is no way we're going to get into Camp Green Lake. You're a sixteen year old _girl._ There are a couple of things they are bound to notice."

"Like what?"

Fletcher rolled his eyes, "Like the fact that you have a chest but no dick."

"Oh," I said, blushing furiously at my stupidity, "Right. Well, we can work around that."

"No we cant. Besides, I managed to get myself on my feet and off the streets and I would like to keep it that way," Fletcher pointed out.

"Listen Fletcher," I said stubbornly, "Do you want to help Elliot or not? I am getting into that camp one way or another and I am going to get Elliot out. Now are you going to help me or not?"

Fletcher looked me over, trying to decide if I was bluffing. I watched as he mulled over his thoughts.

"Okay, Riley," Fletcher sighed after a long agonizing moment, "I'll help you break Elliot out of Camp Green Lake."

I grinned, "Yes! Thank you Fletcher," I said and threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight.

"Yeah yeah," Fletcher dismissed, waving me off, "Enough with the touchy feelings. Listen, this is all going to be you Riley. I have an apartment now, a job and responsibilities so I can't afford to just drop everything and go to Camp Green Lake. I'll help get you in there and I'll help to get you out any way I can but the rest is up to you. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Okay," Fletcher said, nudging me with his hand, "Come on."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

Fletcher smiled at me, "You want to get into Camp Green Lake as soon as possible, right? We're going to turn you into a boy. Lets go, we have lots of work to do."

I grinned and followed Fletcher. We walked to his apartment on the other side of town, which didn't take to long. He lived in the basement of his apartment building, in an apartment so small the door didn't open all the way because it was blocked by half the couch. I squeezed into the room after Fletcher and looked around. It was cramped and messy, things from the bathroom spilling into the kitchen and things from the kitchen spilling over into the living area. I shot Fletcher a look and he shrugged at me.

"Nice place," I said sarcastically.

Fletcher ignored me, "First thing is first Riley, we need to make you look like a boy."

I nodded in agreement, "Okay Fletcher, turn me into a man."

Fletcher leaned up against his kitchen counter, "I think the first thing to go is the hair."

I reach up and fingered my hair, "You want to cut my hair off?" I asked, "I'm not so sure I trust you with that."

Fletcher fished out a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer, turning to me, "If you really want to look like a boy then it has to go," Fletcher said, indicating to the kitchen chair.

I sat down slowly, running my hands through my hair. My hair was pretty long, reaching almost down the the middle of my back. It was thick, wavy and a dark red color. I had never had been especially fond of my hair, but to cut it all off?

I felt Fletcher lift a lock of hair, hesitating, "Are you sure you want to do this Riley?" he asked, "There's not going back."

I knew he wasn't talking about just the hair. He was talking about everything we were doing to rescue Elliot and he was right. There was no backing down once we started and I was determined to see this through until the end. I nodded.

"Do it Fletcher."

I heard the scissors softly snipping away and out of the corner of my eye I could see red hair falling to the floor.

"Done," Fletcher said after a while. He turned to look at me and grinned, "Hey, maybe I should become a barber. I did a pretty good job."

I climbed down from the chair and went to the bathroom mirror. It was weird seeing me with short hair. I looked the same; same dark freckles, same blue eyes and same hair color but there was something different. I'm not sure what Fletcher meant when he said he did a good job. The hair was unevenly cut and stuck out in random places. He left it a little long, so that it stopped at about my ears and flopped over my forehead.

"It looks like a blind man cut it," I called from the bathroom.

"Watch it!" Fletcher warned, "I could have done worse."

I didn't respond. I couldn't stop staring at myself in the mirror. I ran my hands through my hair. It was odd not feeling the long strands.

I was sorry to say that I actually started looking like a boy.

I went back to the kitchen. Fletcher was cleaning up all the hair off the floor. He looked up when I entered, "Well don't you just make the prettiest boy I've ever seen," he teased.

"Shut up," I snapped at him, "What's next?"

Fletcher started searching through his things, "Well, your chest kind of gives you away," he said, opening some drawers.

I looked down at myself, pulling my jacket around myself tighter self consciously, "Kind of?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean," Fletcher replied, finally finding what he had been looking for. He pulled out some rolled up gauze and tossed it to me, "Go do your thing," he said and waved me off to the direction of the bathroom.

I rolled my eyes but did as I was told, slipping into the bathroom again. I wasn't a very curvy girl to begin with; I was more of the tall, skinny, shapeless type. Still, I wrapped my chest, pulling the gauze as tight as I could. I wound it around my upper torso, flattening my chest and tucking in the gauze. I turned to the side and studied my work, smiling. I had done a pretty good job. Hooray for having small breasts!

I pulled my shirt back over my head, fingering my hair again. It was going to take some time getting use to it being so sort. I went back to the kitchen.

"Not bad, huh?" I asked.

Fletcher looked at me and smiled, "Not bad," he agreed.

Fletcher and I took a seat at his kitchen counter and began plotting our rescue mission.


	4. The Hearing

**The Hearing**

* * *

"Will the defendant please rise?"

I did as I was told, glancing around the court room. I tugged at the sleeves on my white button down shirt nervously. Fletcher had let me borrow it for the hearing and it was about two sizes two long. I looked down at myself. I was dressed in a tie and shirt, black slacks and a pair of Fletchers black leather shoes. I still couldn't get use to the fact that to everyone around me, for all they knew, I was a boy. It was strange, but so far, it was working.

"Nick McFlanker," the judge said, gripping his gavel, "The jury has found you guilty of attempted robbery and assaulting an officer-"

I looked over my shoulder at the officer sitting in the witness chair. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and white tape across his nose to hold it in place. He glowered at me and something told me he still had hard feelings towards me for breaking his nose. I turned back to the judge.

"-and have decided to sentence you to eighteen months prison. However, I believe in second chances and I believe that sending you to jail will hurt more than it will help. There is a detention center by the name of Camp Green Lake and they are currently accepting boys. It has a high rate of turning troubles boys into fine young men. Would you agree these terms?"

I nodded.

"Right then. Nick McFlanker, you've been sentanced to eighteen months at Camp Green Lake," the judge said, whacking his gavel against the sound block, "Dismissed."

The room filled with low murmurs as everyone stood and started filing their way towards the doors. I shook the hand of my lawyer that the state assigned me. The jury began making their way out the court room after the judge, as did the officers. I turned to the people that sat and watched the hearing. Fletcher was among them, so were a few reporters and witnesses. I wen't up to Fletcher, grinning from ear to ear.

"You did it Riley!" Fletcher half whispered, only making me grin more, "You actually got into Camp Green Lake!"

I couldn't stop stupidly smiling. I hugged Fletcher.

One of the jury members passed us, watching me curiously. I hastily pulled away, whacking Fletcher in the arm to remind him that I no longer looked like a girl. Fletcher chuckled and I hit him again, still grinning after receiving the news. The jury member was no doubt wondering why the defendant looked so happy to be sent to a juvenile detention center for a year and half but I didn't care.

We waited until the the court room emptied a little more before we continued talking.

"I can't believe our plan worked," Fletcher commented, shaking his head.

"Hang on a little longer Elliot," I sighed to no one in particular, "I'm coming for you."

I still couldn't believe we had actually pulled this off.

Our plan went a little like this:

I wen't from being Riley Larson to being Nick McFlanker about a month ago. I scoped out some people by the cafe where Elliot and I had been busted and managed to swipe an identity off a boy about my age. He looked nothing like me, heavy set, dark hair and tall, but that didn't matter because all I needed was his name. From then on I started living as the trouble teenage boy Nick McFlanker rather than the street girl Riley Larson. I felt a little guilty about stealing someone else's identity but it was for a good cause. I needed to get Elliot back.

Using the identity of Nick McFlanker, I robbed one of the convenient stores in town. After breaking in a window and making sure to set the alarm off, I grabbed a bag of chips and waited for the cops to arrive. When they did, I gave up a bit of a fight, breaking one of the officers noses before being shoved into the back of the cop car. They took me to the jail, booked me, and kept me in a holding cell like they did Elliot. I called Fletcher from there and let him know what happened.

Because I was friendless, family-less, and homeless the state assigned me a lawyer. The court hearings went smoothly. I was charged and offered the plea bargain, which I quickly took and pled guilty, then given a sentence. The whole process took about two and a half weeks.

"Now what?" I asked Fletcher.

"Now, you're off to the detention center. I'll come see you off tomorrow morning but after that, you're on your own," Fletcher replied, "Still think you can handle it Riley?"

I nodded, "Definitely."

Fletcher smiled, "That's my boy," he teased, "Remember everything I told you?"

I nodded again.

After stealing Nick McFlanker's identity and before I got arrested, Fletcher spent as much time as possible teaching me how to walk, talk and act like a boy. He taught me everything from spitting to walking to one armed hugs and fists bumps. I thought I did pretty well, but for some reason Fletcher enjoyed making fun of me every time I tired to act like a boy. So in front of Fletcher I dropped my facade but in front of everyone else I was a boy.

The police officer walked up behind me to escort me back to the jail until the next morning. I waved goodbye to Fletcher and left the court room.

I was on my way. Just a few more hours and I would be able to see Elliot again. It had been almost a whole month. I still wasn't sure exactly how I was going to get him out but with the both of us on the inside, and Fletcher on the outside, we were bound to figure something out. I had to just take it day by day. There was still no guarantee I'd stay in Camp Green Lake. If I was ever caught, I'd be sent back without a second thought. I had to careful. I had to be smart. I had to get Elliot out.

* * *

The next morning I woke up terrified. I dressed in a pair of Fletchers old clothes. Because I didn't have anything, the jail provided me basic toiletries to take to Camp Green Lake. I had just finished packing up when a cop came to get to escort me out where the bus was waiting to take me to the camp. I pulled the backpack on and took a deep breath, following the officer, nervously fingering my short hair.

Outside a large yellow school bus was parked on the curb. I glanced over my shoulder at the officer, "All this just for me?" I asked, my voice sounding stronger than I felt, "You shouldn't have."

The officer rolled his eyes and I turned back to the bus. Waiting for me were two people. One was a man in uniform with a large mustache and dark shades on. I guessed he was the guard. The other was Fletcher, who was watching me as I approached.

"How are you feeling?" Fletcher asked once I reached him.

I shrugged, "Terrified, like I'm going to faint at any moment."

Fletcher chuckled, "Take it easy. You'll be fine Riley," he said.

The cop came forwards and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I put out my wrists obediently and the officer cuffed me.

"You have my address, right?" Fletcher asked and I nodded, "Be sure to write me. Let me know what's going on with you and with Elliot."

"Okay," was all I said. I wasn't good with words, and I especially wasn't good at goodbyes.

More than anything I wanted to wrap my arms around Fletcher and give him a hug goodbye but I decided better of it. Instead we just nodded at each other before the guard ushered me onto the bus. I nodded a hello to the bus driver before taking a seat by the window, the guard sitting in front of me. I looked out the window at Fletcher and the cop. The bus gave a sudden jerk and pulled away from the curb. Hands cuffed together, I waved goodbye to Fletcher. He gave me a half smile and waved back, watching the bus was out of sight.

I turned back around in my seat and sighed, closing my eyes. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, so fast I thought that it would burst any second. The drive was a good two hours, meaning I had 120 minutes to wallow in my nerves. The fact that the guard was carrying a menacing looking rifle didn't help any. I glanced out the window. I was on my way to Camp Green Lake. Thank God the first half of our plan had gone smoothly.

I watched out my window as we drove. Before long the scenery began changing from tall buildings to little houses to sage brush to...nothing. For miles and miles we drove and I saw nothing but flat, dusty land and mountains on the horizon. It was nothing but dry desert with the hot sun bearing down on it. Then I started noticing mounds of dirt. At first they were sparse but then I saw more and more of them until the ground was covered in them. I turned to the guard.

"What are those?" I asked, indicating out my window.

The guard sneered, "Holes."

Holes? No one said anything about having to dig holes at Camp Green Lake.

I noticed shovel fulls of dirt flying up over the mounds. Boys dressed in orange coveralls and working gloves were waist high standing in the holes. They looked up as the bus drove by, squinting in the sun light. Some wore hats or pieces of cloth over their necks to shield themselves from the sun. Each one of them was covered in a fine layer of dust and sweat.

I shrank back in my seat as the bus began so slow down. The guard peered over the seat at me.

"Welcome to Camp Green Lake, kid."


	5. Camp

**Camp**

* * *

The bus rolled to a stop and the doors slid open. I stepped off the bus, handcuffed and with the guard behind me, and a wave of heat hit me. I looked around, blinking in the sun. More boys in orange that were lounging around the camp looked over at our direction, watching me curiously. They looked like children at a zoo, ready to tap the glass of whatever animal was on display.

And I was that animal.

"This way," The guard said, herding me towards a building.

The camp was medium sized. The buildings looked like wooden shacks that were about to collapse at any minute. Each of them had rusted screen doors on them and signs that read things like "Mess Hall," "Bathroom and Wash" and "Kitchen." On the other side of the camp were large canvass tents. At one point they must have been white but between the wind, sun and sand they had turned a brownish color. Past that was a cabin that looked much nicer in comparison to the other dwellings. A 1957 Chrysler was parked outside the cabin.

There was a basketball hoop near the middle of the camp and like everything else there, it looked ready to fall apart. The hoop had no net and the backboard was nothing but a piece of plywood. There were outdoor showers in the far corner of the camp that looked like fire sprinklers attached to wooden beams.

It was a depressing sight.

We stepped onto the porch of one of the buildings. The guard knocked on the screen door and entered, yanking me inside after him. I was grateful for the air conditioned room. A man was sitting at a desk with a cigarette between his teeth. His hair was slicked back and he had side burns along his temple. He scrutinized me as the guard led me to a chair and sat me down.

"What's your name, son?" The man growled as the guard took the handcuffs off my wrists.

"Uh...Nick McFlanker," I replied. My voice shook and I had been so nervous, I forgot to drop my voice and octave. I cleared my throat. My heart was still beating fast and my palms were getting sweaty.

The man stood up and went to the guard, "Well Nick McFlanker, my name is Mr. Sir and you will call me by that name, understand?" He asked, taking a manila folder with all my files in it from the guard.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Mr. Sir did not look like the kind of man that would joke about his name and kept a completely serious face. I felt his eyes on me so I didn't dare open my mouth for fear of laughing. I turned in my chair to look at him.

Mr. Sir turned to the guard.

"There's drinks in the freezer for you and the driver," he grumbled then turned back to me, "Follow me."

I did as I was told, standing quickly and gathering my backpack. I followed Mr. Sir, unwilling to leave the cool air conditioned office. He led me outside.

"So you decided to come to Camp Green Lake, did you?" Mr. Sir asked me, his hands on his belt was she walked.

I looked around, "Well, it wasn't really my decision to make," I replied then hastily added, "Mr. Sir."

He frowned at me, raising an eyebrow, "Don't be smart with me, boy," he snapped.

"Sorry Mr. Sir," I replied.

"Nick McFlanker welcome to Camp Green Lake," Mr. Sir said without a hint of warmth in his voice, "Were you awake on the drive down here? Did you see any towns near by? Any fences surrounding the camp? Guard towers?"

"No Mr. Sir," I muttered.

"There's a reason for that!" Mr. Sir said as we walked, "Camp Green Lake is the only place with in miles that has any water. Go ahead and run, you won't make it to the next town before you die of heat stroke. That's how we keep our campers here and working. They do our share, we do ours and there is no problem. Understand?"

"Yes Mr. Sir," I replied.

Mr. Sir entered another building that said Bathroom and Wash on a sign over the door. There were stacks of working boots and orange uniforms and a bin of work gloves in the corner. A boy with slicked back blonde hair, stood behind a table. Mr. Sir took my backpack and tossed it to the boy, who began searching it.

"You will be given two sets of clothes," Mr. Sir said, "Your work clothes and your relaxations clothes. You will wear your work clothes for three days then they will be washed. Your relaxation clothes become your work clothes. You will be given shower tokens for the shower. Breakfast, lunch and dinner is served every day."

"Yes Mr. Sir," I replied. The boy behind the table repacked my backpack and tossed it back to me. He looked at me, sizing me up. He then went to the stacks of clothes, looking through the sizes.

"You will be digging holes each day including weekends. Five foot by five foot," Mr. Sir continued, "Your shovel is going to be your measuring stick. Once you dig your hole, you may return to camp. You'll be given a water bottle, be sure to use it and stay hydrated. Those holes can heat up real quick. If you find anything interesting while digging, you report it to either myself or one of the counselors. You'll meet with the counselors every three days. Any questions?"

"No Mr. Sir."

"Good." Mr. Sir said. The boy came around and handed me two sets of clothes, a pair of boots and an old pair of working gloves, "Tries those on," Mr. Sir said.

I gulped, "Uh...is there a bathroom I can change in?" I asked, panicking. I would definitely get busted if I changed in front of Mr. Sir and the camper.

Mr. Sir looked at me curiously and the boy laughed under his breath.

"No. Change here," Mr. Sir said.

"I can't," I replied.

"Why not?" Mr. Sir growled threateningly.

I opened my mouth to reply but I couldn't think of anything to say. I saw the sign as I walked in, I knew there was a bathroom some place in this building. Mr. Sir was testing me, I could see it in his eyes. This wasn't about bathrooms, he was showing me who had authority in this camp. I would jump when he said jump, I would dig when he said dig and I would change where he told me to change.

Just then, the screen door bust open. In the doorway stood a little man, shorter than me. He was wearing shorts and knee socks, and his nose was smothered in white sunscreen. I let out my breath, relieved.

"You must be our new camper!" The man said eagerly and I nodded, "Welcome to camp Nick McFlanker! My name is Dr. Pendenski and I will be your counselor. I just want you to know that you may have done some bad things but that does not make you a bad person. I respect you, Nick."

They way he said it made me feel that Dr. Pendenski had either rehearsed that speech or given it to every camper that came to Camp Green Lake.

I smiled, "Thanks," I said.

"Why don't we go meet the rest of the boys in your tent?" Dr. Pendenski asked.

"Not till he changes," Mr. Sir said but Dr. Pendenski dismissed him.

"He can change later," he said, "Follow me."

I scooped up my belongings and followed Dr. Pendenski. He led the way outside towards the canvass tents.

"You'll be bunking in Tent D and I think you'll like the boys in there. You'll fit in quite well Nick," Dr. Pendenski was saying. As we approached Tent D four boys stepped out.

"Morning Mom," one of them said. He was skinny boy with thick rimed glasses and dark skin.

"Good morning Rex," Dr. Pendenski said turning to me, "Riley I would like to introduce you to three of your tent companions. This is Rex," Dr. Pendenski pointed to the boy with glasses, "Alan and Lewis."

The kid named Rex nodded his head towards me, "The name's X-Ray," he said turning to his companions, "This is Squid and Barf Bag."

Dr. Pendenski turned at me, "They have these nicknames that they give each other but I like to call them by their _legal_ names."

Alan, or Squid, was my height. He had brown eyes and his head was wrapped in white cloth to help him keep cool. He wore an orange uniform like all the other boys and he had a toothpick rolling between his teeth. He just looked at me.

Lewis, or Barf Bag, was of medium height but more broad than the other boys. He had brilliant blue eyes and short, dark hair that reminded me of Fletchers.

"Nice to-," I stopped and cleared my throat, making my voice deeper, "Nice to meet you guys. My name's Nick McFlanker."

Rex, or X-Ray, shooed Dr. Pendenski away, "Okay Mom, we got this," he said, putting an arm around my shoulders, "We'll show the new meat the ropes."

The boys led me into Tent D while Dr. Pendenski wen't to join the other counselors. He seemed more than willing to pass me off to a bunch of delinquents. I clutched my stuff, reminding myself to breath. I felt like the boys could see right through my disguise. Were they fooled? They led me into the canvass tent where eight cots took up most of the space. Another boy was in there, sitting on his own bed. I groaned inwardly. Not more faces. It was hard enough trying to get the names and nicknames straight.

"So, what should I call you guys?" I asked.

"Man, didn't you hear what we said?" The boy with glasses snapped, "X-Ray, Squid and Barf Bag. Get it straight."

"Oh, right," I said. Looks like referring to the boys by their real name was out of the question.

X-Ray turned to me, "You'll be in the bed next to Magnet. Watch your stuff though, the kid can't keep his hands to himself."

I looked at the boy sitting on his bed, Magnet. He was Hispanic, short and scrawny with dark hair, dark eyes and dark skin. He grinned at me and patted the bed next to his. I dropped my stuff on the bed and sat down, suddenly very exhausted.

"So did Mr. Sir give you the lecture about dying of dehydration if you try to run?" Barf Bag asked, sitting on the cot adjacent from mine.

"Sort of," I replied.

"And Dr. Pendenski gave you the 'you just made bad choices' speech?"

I nodded and Barf Bag chuckled, "They give that spill to all the new campers."

"Yeah, they only tell ya what they _want_ ya to know," Squid said with a thick Southern accent, "We'll tell ya everythin' ya _need_ to know to survive camp."

"Welcome to Camp Green Lake, Nick. You have eighteen months of holes and heat to look forwards to," X-Ray said like I had just signed my own death warrant. All five boys laughed, shoving each other playfully as they left the tent, leaving me alone.

I flung myself back on my cot, which squeaked loudly in protest. What was I thinking? I must have been partially insane to think that I could do this. Even with my short hair, wrapped chest and borrowed clothes, could I really fool these campers into thinking that I was a boy? Would they believe me? I just had to make it through the next few weeks. I reminded myself to take it one day at a time. So far, I had made it through my first day unscathed, and I could only hope my second would be the same.

Oh, how wrong I was.


	6. The First Hole

I woke up the next morning to the sound of a bugle. It took a while before I got my bearings, suddenly remembering where I was. I rolled over and groaned into my pillow. After the boys left yesterday, I fell asleep on my cot fully clothed, exhausted. It felt like I had only just closed my eyes before I was awake again.

"Wake up, man," someone said to me and whacked me over the head with a pillow.

I sat up groggily. It was Magnet who had hit me. I rubbed my eyes, willing myself to get out of my bed, but my limbs refused. It must have been pretty early because the sun hadn't even come up yet. The boys of Tent D slowly got up sleepy eyed and yawning.

When the first bare chested boy climbed out of bed, I was suddenly very awake. Soon the others followed and I was surrounded by five half naked boys, dressed in boxers and shirts. I sat in my bed, mortified and blushing red.

"Come on," Squid said, walking over to me as he pulled on his coverall, "Get up if you wan't breakfast. The counselors don't like late comers," he said, ruffling my hair roughly and giving my head a shove.

I frowned at him as he turned away from me. Barf Bag climbed out of his bed and yawned. When he passed in front of my cot, stretching, I decided that was enough. I ducked under my covers to save myself from the humiliation. These boys weren't particularly muscular or ridiculously pretty, but the last time I saw a boys bare chest was never.

"Rise and shine cupcake," someone said sarcastically, shoving me while I barricaded myself under the covers. From the sound of his muffled voice, I guessed it was X-Ray, "You don't want the Warden coming down here just because you wanted a few extra minutes sleep."

By the sound of their silence, I assumed the boys were waiting for an answer. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I sat there covered.

"Ah, leave him," someone else said. This voice I didn't recognize, "He'll learn quick enough."

Someone grumbled something about snapping my neck if I brought the Warden down on their tent. Whoever the Warden was, it sounded like the last thing the boys wanted from them was to be paid a visit. I made a mental note to steer clear of the Warden.

I could her a few muffled voices, things being thrown around, then silence. I peeked out from underneath the covers. It was still dark, but I couldn't make out anyone in the tent. I climbed out of my cot, listening for any voices.

Nothing.

I could change in peace. I yanked off the clothes from the day before hurriedly, not wanting to get too far from my group. I checked the gauze around my chest, making sure it was still tight. My coveralls had been put by my bed, along with the gloves and boots. I held out on of the uniforms in front of me. It was shapeless and oversized, which I was actually grateful for. It would just help hide my figure. Or lack there of. It was orange, which I wasn't so grateful for. Red hair, no matter how short, never looked good with orange.

I shrugged and pulled it on. Beggars can't be choosers, right? I laced up the black combat boots and grabbed my gloves, noticing a plastic jug full of water. Was this supposed to be a water bottle? I looked more like an old milk carton. I grabbed it anyways before hurrying out of the tent.

I looked around. The camp was more lifeless than the day before. I didn't see a soul walking around. Where was everyone? I choose a direction and headed that way, hoping to run into either a camper or counselor. I wasn't so lucky. All I found was an open shed marked "Shovels" that had a few shovels on racks. I grabbed one down and as I did, I spotted them.

The whole camp was making their way out towards the desert. Even in the early morning haze, I could make out their orange suits. Shovel in hand, I jogged to catch up with them before they got any further.

"Nice of you to show up, McFlanker," one of the counselors said as I stopped behind the back of the group. A few boys turned to look at me and I gave them a guilty smile.

So far so good.

I searched the back of heads for some people in my tent, also keeping an eye out for Elliot's curly head of hair. I finally spotted the short, shaved head of Magnet and made a bee line for him.

"Look who finally decided to wake up," Magnet said.

"When's breakfast?" I replied.

Magnet gave a nasally laugh, "You missed it bro."

I sighed and Magnet nudged the boy standing next to him, "Zigzag, meet the new kid."

The boy nicknamed Zigzag looked at me. He had blue eyes and was tall and skinny, a couple of good inches over six foot. His hair was sandy blonde and wavy, standing out in all sorts of directions. He carried his shovel over his shoulder.

"What's your name?" Zigzag asked.

"Nick McFlanker," I said.

Zigzag just nodded his head, watching me. I didn't like the way he scrutinized me, like he could see right through my bluff. I turned away. Magnet and Zigzag talked the whole time we walked, excluding me from their conversation. I would have been hurt, but I was too busy looking around for Elliot.

The numbers began dwindling as campers went off to dig. The boys of D Tent eventually broke off as well. I picked a spot by a boy I hadn't met yet, a large black camper. He didn't even acknowledge me as he began on his hole.

I watched the other campers for a bit before I got started on my own hole. The first few shovelfuls were easy enough and by mid morning, my hole was almost as deep as my shins. It only got harder from there. The sun started to come up, beating down on my back and neck as I worked. I started sweating and when my hole was knee deep, I had already drank all the water in my bottle.

The shovel began to feel heavy in my hands, and my muscles were aching bad by early afternoon. I leaned on my shovel, watching the other campers. I had begun to lag behind big time and at the rate I was going now, I would be outside all day.

"Having fun yet?"

I turned to the boy who talked to me. It was the fat kid. His brow was shining with sweat.

"Oh you know, I'm having the time of my life over here," I panted. The boy rolled his eyes but I saw a smile on his face, "What's your name?" I asked.

"Armpit," the boy replied.

"Yeah? Why do they call you that?"

"You don't want to know," Armpit said back, tossing another shovelful of dirt out of his hole.

We wen't back to digging.

Eventually a water truck rolled around, driven by Mr. Sir, to refill our water bottles and hand out lunches. My hole was barley up to my thighs while most of the other boys were well past their hips. I sighed and climbed out of my hole. Mr. Sir parked his truck and came around the back, dropping the tail gate. I wiped the sweat from my brow and stood by the water tank. I was so thirsty, my mouth was dry and my tongue felt swollen. I was willing to do just about anything for a drink.

"Hey," X-Ray snapped from behind me. I barley had time to rect before he grabbed the neck of my coverall and shoved me back, "Wait your turn new kid."

Each of the boys took a turn shoving me behind them. I stumbled back until I was the last in line. I huffed but was to exhausted to really do anything about it. I guess that's how it was at Camp Green Lake, you had to earn your stripes. X-Ray seemed to be the leader of the group, with Squid, Barf Bag and Armpit his faithful followers. I imagined Magnet as Switzerland, the mediator that didn't really choose sides, while ZigZag did his own thing.

It was finally my turn for water. I stepped up and handed Mr. Sir my water bottle, which he began to fill from the hose attached to the water tank.

"How's your first hole, son?" he asked.

"Stimulating," I replied sarcastically.

Mr. Sir didn't appreciate my joke. He shoved my water bottle into my chest only half full.

I just grabbed some food and went back to my hole. I sat on the edge, dangling my feet over the side and ate. The boys all gathered around to eat their lunches and talk while I sat aloof from them. Mr. Sir packed up and moved on the feed the next group of campers and we all went back to digging.

My hands started blistering and peeling from gripping the shovel so tight. They stung with every bit of dirt I moved. For some reason though, I was determined to finish this hole. Not that I really had any choice. With the sun high in the sky, the heat unbearable and my body burning I kept digging. The boys of D Tent began making their way, one by one, back to camp, until I was the only one left.

I finished hours after them. I climbed out of my hole, my hands bleeding, my skin sun burnt and my clothes soaked through with sweat. I just wanted to curl up and fall asleep on the ground, but I forced myself to drag my shovel back to camp.

By the time I got back, most of the campers had started dinner. I hung my shovel in the shed and made my way towards the dinner building.

The first thing I noticed when I entered was the air conditioning. Beautiful, cool, sweet air conditioning. I will never again take that brilliant invention for granted. The second was the smell. If that didn't make me loose my appetite, the the food's appearance wold. I grabbed myself a tray and slid it over to the cook, who dropped some kind of bean soup on it. It looked and smelled like it had been cooked in someones old shoes.

Taking the tray, I turned to the vary of tables. I noticed the boys from my tent in the far corner, but still no Elliot. I sighed and walked over to the boys, taking a seat between Barf Bag and X-Ray. Squid and Magnet sat opposite me. They laughed when they saw my frazzled appearance.

"Man, you look like you got fried!" Magnet cried, banging his fist against the table from laughing to hard, "Don't you have a hat or something?"

I shook my head. X-Ray rolled his eyes at me.

"I have an extra one you can have," Barf Bag said and I noticed a couple of boys shooting him dirty looks for being nice to the new kid, "Don't worry about the sunburn, it'll turn to a tan eventually."

"Didn't you hear?" I asked, "Red heads don't tan. They burn to a crisp then freckle."

"Yeah, you got a lot of those," Barf Bag replied.

Squid looked up, "How are you feelin' after your first hole?" he asked.

"Like shit," I grumbled.

They boys laughed again at my expense.

My arms ached so bad I could barley lift them, let alone eat with them. I was still thirsty and no matter how much water I drank, that didn't go away. My lips were chapped and my hands stung. I counted four angry red blisters on my hands, three on one and one on the other. I was coated in a thick layer of sweat and dust on top of a bad sunburn. My spine was stiff and my neck sore.

I was beat.

I could hear the boys talking but nothing was registering; I could only focus on how much my body hurt. I felt my eye lids flutter as I tried to stay awake long enough to eat. The last thing I remembered was someone saying, "Hey, new kid, are you feeling okay?" before I fell forwards into my bean soup and passed out.


	7. Squid

I woke with a start, a foul oder filling my nose and making my eyes water.

"Ah! What_ is_ that?" I gagged, sitting up.

Squid and Armpit were over me, laughing their heads off.

I held my nose. "Were those smelling salts?"

"Nah man," Squid said, "That was Armpits armpits."

And they howled with laughter again while I gagged some more. Now I knew how Armpit got his nickname.

I was sitting on my cot, my whole body sore and stiff. It hurt to move. I looked out the crack between the tent flaps. It was high noon. The last thing I remembered from yesterday was dinner. I had I slept through the next day?

"What happened?" I groaned, holding my head and feeling very confused.

Squid was smirking down at me, his signature toothpick between his lips, "You fainted last night after diggin' your hole," he said, chuckling, "Passed out right into your beans at dinner. Barf Bag and ZigZag had to haul your limp ass back to the tent. You've been sleepin' since then. Most of us are done with our holes for the day so you're lucky you slept this long. I got bored of waitin' for you though, so I had Armpit do me a favor."

I looked at Armpit, who smiled down at me. I rolled over and yanked the covers of my cot over my shoulder. I was not in the mood today. Squid went ahead and pulled them off my body.

"Come on," he said, "Get up. It's time you learned more about Camp Green Lake."

Squid gave me a punch in the arm and I groaned loudly in reply. With sore muscles, the punch hurt ten times more than usual.

"Sorry," Squid said without any sympathy.

I sat up as Armpit waved goodbye to Squid. Someone had removed my boots from last night but that was it. I was still in my work clothes from the day before. I sat up and pulled my boots on, following Squid out the tent. Only about half the campers were back from digging holes.

"So, Nick," Squid was saying to me as he led the way around the camp, "What're you in here for?"

"Robbing a convenient store," I replied.

Squid led the way to the Mess Hall. We didn't go inside the building, but sat on the wooden porch under the shade of the overhanging.

"How long are you here for?" replied Squid.

"Eighteen months."

"Well then you got eighteen months to figure out the workin's of Camp Green Lake. Mr Sir and Dr. Pendenski gave you the tour but do you wan't to know what really goes on here?" Squid asked, looking at me.

I nodded.

"Well, you keep your head down. You dig your holes and you do your time. Don't do anythin' that'll upset the Warden or else she'll make your life a living hell here. Mr. Sir is rough around the edges but you already knew that. Dr. Pendenski may seem nice but he's just as bad as the others. You got no respect here when you're the new kid and that's the way it's supposed to be. When you get a nickname, and when you prove yourself, that's when you really become a camper."

"So how did you get your nickname?" I asked.

Squid looked at me, "It's a long story."

"Well, I have eighteen months to hear it," I replied and Squid just rolled his eyes at me, obviously not willing to share his story.

"What about X-Ray?" I asked, "How did he get his nickname?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Squid asked, slightly annoyed.

"None of the boys have really warmed up to me yet," I replied, "I wouldn't be surprised if I asked him and he punched me in the gut for it."

"Me either," Squid replied and sighed, "Okay. X-Ray's real name in Rex, so his nickname is just his legal name in pig latin."

"What did he get sent here for?" I asked, eager to know the stories behind my tent mates.

"He says he got arrested for sellin' drugs. I don't know if I believe it though. He's been here at Camp Green Lake longer than any of us, so that's why he sort of the self proclaimed leader."

"And Magnet? What's his story?"

"Magnet got arrested for tryin' to steal a puppy. You should have him tell you the story some time, it's actually pretty funny. He's been here a couple of months but I'm not sure how long he has left. We all call him Magnet because his fingers are like magnets. The kid can steal just about anythin' he wants."

"Except puppies," I reminded then asked, "What about Armpit and Barf Bag?"

"You smelled Armpit's underarms, that should be explanation enough. He was sent here over a bucket of popcorn. He got in a fight with some kids and ended up putting two boys in the hospital. Him and X-Ray are pretty tight. He likes to act tough but he's more of a big teddy bear. You just gotta get used to him."

"Barf Bag," Squid continued, "Was a nervous wreck when he got to camp. On his first day, his was so distressed that he vomited all over Mr. Sir. Mr. Sir was so angry he made Barf Bag dig two holes on his first day. We all thought it was pretty cool. Barf Bag was sent on aggravated assault charges. He says that he's innocent."

"Do you believe him?" I asked.

Squid nodded. "Well, yeah. He's a real nice kid, just about the only one that won't pick on you. I don't think he belongs here."

I looked out over the camp as more boys finished their holes, marching in together. ZigZag walked into camp, a shovel over his shoulder. He tossed it towards the shed, not bothering to hang it up with the rest. He looked over at us, frowned and disappeared into the Mess Hall.

"What's his deal?" I asked.

"Who? ZigZag?" Squid asked and laughed, "He suffers from acute paranoia. He has these trust issues with people. His math teacher was failin' him and ZigZag thought he was out to get him, so after school one day he set the classroom on fire. He has the longest sentence out of all of us. As long as you don't give him a reason to be violent, you'll be fine around ZigZag."

I pursed my lips and nodded. I would have to watch out for ZigZag.

"So that's Camp Green Lake?" I asked.

Squid leaned back and nodded, "Yeah. Pretty messed up, huh?"

"Yeah," I agreed as we sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the shade.

"So what about you?"

"What?" I asked.

"Well, now you know everything about the boys in our tent, so what's your story?" Squid asked.

"Oh, right," I said, "Well, I never knew my birth mother. I was adopted when I was little and lived with a nice couple the first six years of my life. I don't remember much of it. They died when I was young and I was sent to foster homes. At eleven I was sick of moving around so I ran away. I have been living on the street's since then with a couple other kids," I said and shrugged, suddenly having a thought.

"Hey, you don't happen to know of a kid who was brought here about a month ago, do you? His name is Elliot and he's fourteen."

"Elliot?" Squid asked and I nodded hopefully. Squid shook his head, "I don't know. We've been getting a lot of new boys recently. Why?"

"No reason," I said dismissively.

We were called for dinner.

"Hey," Squid said seriously, "If you tell any of the boys I told you this, I'll deny it. They wouldn't be happy if they found out I was telling their stories to the new kid."

"Okay, fine," I agreed.

We headed for dinner. The news of me fainting into my food spread like wild fire around the camp and I was the butt of the jokes all through dinner. I guess I was the first ever "boy" to pass out on his first hole. I got plenty of comments about it on my way to the table with the rest of the boys from my tent. When I sat down with them, X-Ray reached over and slid my tray away from me.

"Better get this out of the way. Wouldn't want you pass out and suffocate in your chicken," he said and the other boys laughed.

I frowned at him but didn't say anything back. I might as well just get used to it.

After dinner the boys decided to hit the Mess Hall before they turned in. I joined them but instead of heading for the pool table or the broken television set like most, I went for a pen and piece of paper. I needed to write to Fletcher. I told him all about Camp Green Lake; the boys, the holes, the counselors, the heat and everything else I could fit onto the scrap of paper. I had just finished writing about Elliot and telling him that I hadn't seen him since being at camp, when Squid walked up to me.

"Who are you writing to?" he asked.

I looked up. Squid was watching me intently and I sensed a bit of hostility coming from him. I sat back, grabbing up the letter.

"A friend of mine," I replied, a little confused. Just a few hours ago Squid was _almost_ being friendly, but now he was acting surly, like if I said the wrong thing, he'd clobber me.

"Not your parents?"

"No. Why?"

Squid pursed his lips, "No reason," he said and whacked me on the shoulder when he turned to leave. I winced and rubbed my sore arm.

I finished up the letter and went ahead and tossed it into the mail box. After that I headed for the tent, not looking forward to another day of digging.


End file.
